


Ending Just to Start Anew

by tealeavesandmoonlight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Angst, Drug Use, M/M, Minor Character Death, Prostitution, policeman!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealeavesandmoonlight/pseuds/tealeavesandmoonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is a police officer with problems in his past. Castiel Milton is a bookstore owner with a murdered sister and a broken family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Brooke. Happy Birthday.

The red and blue lights played across the woman’s dead body highlighting the gruesome nature of her many wounds. Her limbs were splayed out akimbo and her torso was covered in deep gashes, blood dried to a rusty brown-red. From her clothes it was evident that the woman had worked the streets and Dean could see the faint track marks that traced her history on pale skin.

Dean felt like he wanted to throw up. After what felt like a lifetime on the job, a lifetime of seeing the worst humans can offer each other, most assumed you got used to it. This was mostly true, but somethings just hit too close to home.

“What do you know so far Bobby?”

“Other than the fact that she’s dead? Not much.”

“Yeah, yeah Bobby. Real smart.”

Dean crouched down by the body and looked at the girl. She was young, probably still too young to even drink legally, and yet here she was laying in a pool of her own blood. Dean hated ones like this.

“Bobby, this is the third one this month.”

Dean’s mouth was dry and his palms began to sweat. He knows what this means, he knows what is happening but everything within him rebels against the idea. There is nothing worse than a serial killer, nothing. 

“I know. We need to find this bastard, and find him fast.”

Dean stood up, wiping his palms on his pants, and took a deep breath.

“Did she have an ID?”

“Luckily she did.”

Bobby handed over a small glittery wallet. Dean cracked it open and pulled out a driver’s license. Her name had been Anna Milton and she had just recently turned eighteen. Dean sucked a quick breath in.

“Jesus Bobby, she was just a kid.” He passed the ID to Bobby.

“Shit.”

“God, we’ve got to find and notify the next of kin.”

Bobby held out his hands in protest. “Don’t look at me.”

“Bobby! C’mon! You know I’m not good at the whole... people’s _feelings_ thing!”

Bobby just stared at Dean as if daring him to try and make him do it.

“Fine! But you owe me Bobby. Big time!”

“Whatever you say idjit.”

* * *

 

Dean looked from the piece of paper in his hand to the building in front of him and back again.

_A bookstore?_

He shrugged and knocked on the glass shop door. He’d lived weirder places himself. He kept knocking until a parade of lights turned on beginning above the shop and ending somewhere in the back, near the storerooms possibly. Dean peered into the dark shop waiting to see the man whose world he was going to have to shatter with the terrible news of his sister’s death. The man whose name he had found on the police database. Castiel Milton.

Dean could make out a sleepy looking man in a bathrobe and plaid pajama pants making his way through the stacks of novels. Once the door was unlocked and open Dean could better see the man’s features. He had bright blue eyes with deep circles beneath them, a face that looked as if it must have been born serious, and hair that stuck up at all angles . This had the effect of making him look both like a little boy and a old man at once.

_I can’t do this._

“Hello. The shop is closed, as you can see. I would be more than glad to help you tomorrow during regular working hours however.”

“Hello Mr. Milton, my name if Officer Winchester. I’m afraid I am not here for a book. May I come in?”

“Oh. Officer. Yes, of course. Would you like some tea?”

Dean grimaced internally. Usually he wasn’t much of a tea man but he was about to tell Mr. Milton that his sister had just been murdered so he figured he could deal.

“Sure, thank you.”

Mr. Milton chuckled, “I’ll get you some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Dean felt his face crack into a rusty smile before he realized why he was really here. 

Mr. Milton showed Dean over to a pair of well used armchairs and turned on the lamp.

“I’ll be right back and then we can discuss,” he bit his lip and breathed in deeply “whatever it is that you came here to discuss with me.”

Dean sat and waited for a few minutes until Mr. Milton came back with the tea and coffee.

“Mr. Milton,”

“Castiel, or Cas, please. I’d rather not hear this from a stranger.”

“Alright Cas, my name is Dean. I’m very sorry to have to tell you this but last night your sister, Anna Milton, was found murdered.”

“Oh.”

Castiel’s hand shook slightly as he lifted his delicate teacup to his lips, splashing a bit of tea on his bathrobe in the process. Dean watched the drip’s progress as it slid down the front of the robe, soaking slowly into the fabric. Somehow this small detail was more heartbreaking than many of the sobbing and screaming scenes he had witnessed from families whom Dean had told similar news to in the past.

“To be honestly I had been expecting something like this for a while now.” Castiel’s voice shook just as his hand had done.

Dean sat up a little straighter at this. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t hoping for a simple solution to this case. A simple solution would be so much easier to swallow than the possibility of a serial killer stalking the streets.

“And why is that Mr, erm, Castiel?” Dean had prefered the nickname Cas but he had felt strangely intimate using it before.

“Well the last time I spoke to Anna, or rather she spoke to me as it were, she sounded very upset and... final. Here, I’ll give you the answering machine tape so you can listen to her message.”

As Castiel climbed the stairs to what Dean could assume was his apartment Dean took a moment to do what any good police officer would; inspect his surroundings.

Castiel had sat Dean down in a small nook between the towering shelves and the ancient looking brock wall. Dean couldn’t deny that he liked the coziness of the shop; the comfy chairs, the softly glowing lamps, and the mug-ring riddled wooden tables made Dean feel right at home.

He stood up and began to inspect the books on the shelves closest to him as he sipped his coffee. There was a good selection of Bradbury along with some Vonnegut about two feet away from his chair and by the time Castiel returned Dean had picked up Cat’s Cradle and was already a few pages into the story.

“Vonnegut’s good.”

Dean would never admit it but Castiel’s growly voice right behind him had made him jump a little bit. _Jesus H. Christ that man walks like a damn jungle cat_.

“Yeah, never read anything of his that I didn’t like. He was kind of my gateway drug to books in high school.”

“You could do worse than begin with Vonnegut... a lot worse” Castiel’s voice suddenly got very quiet.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but he honestly could not fathom what to say to make this stranger feel better; he wasn’t even sure if anything really could.

“Yes well, here is the tape. You should be going Officer, it is very late and tomorrow I will need to be getting Anna’s affairs in order I suppose. If you need anything more I will be open tomorrow at one.”

Dean stood up and reached his hand out to shake Castiel’s. Logically he knew the man was in pain and his somewhat curt dismissal had nothing to do with anything other than the tragedy he had just learned of, but it still smarted a bit after all the kindness.

“Thank you very much for your help Mr. Milton. I’ll be in touch.”

“You are welcome. I believe you can find your way out?”

Dean smiled tightly, “Of course. Good night.”

With a curt nod Dean left the shop and stepped into the night. As soon as the cold air hit his face Dean felt guilty for his petty feelings. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Castiel must be feeling terrible heartbreak. Dean felt his fists clenching up involuntarily. He had to find the sick bastard that was doing this, that was putting so many people through so much pain. In front of the small bookstore Dean swore, to himself, to God, to his dead parents, and to anyone else he could think of, that he would find the man who was doing this and stop him.

Inside the shop Castiel stood with his hand pressed against the glass, silent tears running down his face. He was too weary, too heartsick to even worry about the salt water drips on his precious books.

_Anna..._

_Why did it have to be her?_

As hard as Castiel prayed he didn’t get an answer, but he was patient, and he could wait.


	2. Chapter 2

_“I know I’ve hurt you a lot in the past, I know I’ve used you and... Cas I just want you to know I love you and, and I hope you have a beautiful life because you deserve it, you really do. Don’t keep your self all shut up in your bookstore, okay? Bye Casy. Love you.”_

Dean rubbed his eyes as he played through the tape another time. The message definitely made it sound like Anna knew something was gonna go down and Dean couldn’t help wishing that the girl had gone and gotten herself some help instead of getting herself killed.

It was only eleven am and Dean already felt like he had been in the office for a few days. He was on his fourth cup of coffee and damn him if he didn’t feel as if he needed another one. He got up and walked over to the coffee machine.

_To pour an obscene amount of sugar in or not? That is the question._

“Excuse me. Officer Winchester?”

Dean whirled around, coffee pot still in hand, and found himself nose to nose with Castiel Milton. He took a step back and accidentally bumped into the coffee cart jostling the coffee pot in his hand. A bit sloshed over the side and splashed onto Dean’s shoes.

“Damn it!”

“I-I am sorry if I startled you Officer. I only wan-”

“No, no Cas, Castiel it’s fine. I’m just a little clumsy this late in the day.”

“But it is only eleven am...”

Dean’s smile faltered a bit, “Right. Uh, yeah.” he cleared his throat, “So, what can I do for you Castiel?”

“Officer-”

“Dean. Call me Dean. It’s only fair after all.”

“Alright Dean. I was wondering if I could pick up the personal belongings of my sister?”

“Yeah, yeah sure, let’s go get the paperwork and we’ll get it all set up.”

“Thank you.”

Dean set the coffee pot down and walked Castiel over to his desk. The man looked even more haggard and tired than he had the night before and his clothes looked unironed and maybe even unwashed. Dean, however, wasn’t one to judge. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what it was like to lose someone, or have someone he loved live the kind of life Anna had been living.

“Have a seat Cas. You’ll need to fill out a few forms and then we can go down to pick up the belongings.”

“Alright.”

He pulled the forms out of his drawer and pushed them towards Cas along with a pen. Cas picked up the pen and began to slowly fill out the form in tiny, shaky penmanship.

“You know, my younger brother was a junkie for a while, and he-he used to do the same kind of thing Anna did.”

Cas stopped writing and looked up at Dean with his head cocked slightly to the side. Dean didn’t even know why he was saying this. He never told anyone this, not anyone, and yet here he was telling someone he barely knew. Dean guessed he just wanted to let Cas knew that he understood, that he wasn’t just some lump at a desk who didn’t give a shit, that he got it.

“I guess I’m just trying to say I understand what it feels like to lie awake at night wondering if your kid sibling is okay, if someone out there is...hurting them or if they’re hurting themselves or...”

“But your brother is alright now?”

“Yeah, yeah he is.”

Cas looked down towards the forms again, gripping the pen tightly in his hand. Dean felt like an ass. How could he bring up his brother’s success story when Cas’ sister had just died? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it is fine. I am glad to know that some are able to make it out unscathed. I just wish Anna had been one of them.”

Dean reached over and placed his fingertips on Cas’ hand.

“Me too Cas, me too.”

He stared into Cas’s eyes and Cas stared back, mouth slightly open. He licked his lips and Dean snapped out of it, quickly withdrawing his hand and straightening his tie.

“Um yeah so, how are the forms coming Mr. Milton?”

“Fine Officer Winchester.”

Castiel’s eyes were narrowed slightly as he bowed his head and began working on the forms once again.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. The man’s sister had just died and here he was flirting with him and then pulling back and, damnit Cas looked like someone had just kicked his puppy. Fuck.

“Cas, would you like to have lunch?”

The words were out of his mouth before Dean even had fully processed them. He wished that he could pull the words out of the air and push them back in mouth like in the Sunday morning cartoons he and Sammy used to watch as kids. Castiel looked up at Dean through narrowed eyes.

“I mean it’ll just be a diner, no place fancy and, uh I could ask you a few more questions about your sister to uh... to help with the case.”

“That would be... pleasent. Thank you for the invitation Dean.”

“No problem, the least I could do is get you some lunch.”

Castiel and Dean sat in silence for a few moments as Cas kept filling out the forms.

“I believe I have finished the paperwork Dean. May I now go and retrieve Anna’s things?”

Dean took the form and slipped them in his “to be filed” box and walked Castiel to the elevator that lead down to the evidence locker.

“There wasn’t really much with her when we found her Cas. I just wanted to warn you.”

“That is fine. I didn’t really assume she would have many possessions on her person.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

“Dean. Nice to see you.”

The man behind the evidence locker desk leered at Dean and with a wink flourished the checkout form at Dean. There was something about the guy that made Dean’s skin crawl. It could have been the way he leered, or the fact that he wanted everyone to call him Chief, or maybe it was that when Dean had seen him once on a day off he had been completely clothed in leather. No, it was probably the fact that Jo had told Dean that she’d once seen “the Chief” at a Bondage club down on South 42nd, and she said that he’d seemed to be working there. Dean tried not to think about the fact that Jo had gone to a bondage club of her free will.

“Hi Dale. I’m going to be releasing some items into Mr. Miltons custody, the forms’ll be coming down later today.”

“Sure thing Dean, but remember: it isn’t Dale, it’s the Chief.”

Dean looked at Dale with a strained smile. “Sure thing. Could we just get the stuff now? Kinda on a timeline here.”

“Sure thing.”

Dale walked off into the recesses of the evidence locker and Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why does that man wished to be called the Chief? I assume the actual Chief of police would not be positioned in such a menial job within the department...”

“Cas, no one knows. It’s one of those deep dark secrets that most of us try to avoid thinking about. In fact most of us try to avoid thinking about Dale at all costs.”

“Oh.”

“Got the stuff. I just need you two to sign here and then it’s all yours mister blue-eyes over there.”

“Dale, leave him alone.”

“Sorry. Oh Dean, before you leave here’s my card. Might help you remember my real name.”

Dale winked at Dean and he shuddered as he took the card along with Anna’s personal belongings. He rushed Cas onto the elevator and pushed the “close doors” button until the doors were all the way shut.

“Man that guy gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I don’t believe I understand that reference.”

Dean looked over at Cas in disbelief. “The heebie-jeebies. You know, weirds me out?”

“Oh.”

Cas looked so small to Dean, all hunched in the corner with his arms wrapped tightly around Anna’s belongings. Dean felt a sympathetic squeeze in his chest at the sight of Cas like that.

“So, what did that man’s card say?” Cas looked like he was trying to smile but falling just shy of the expression.

The card was still in Dean’s hand and he flipped it over to read the words written on the front.

“The Chief. Dominant sexual specialist at The Plush Whip.” 

Well that explains all the leather.

Unbelievably Cas started to giggle. It sounded high-pitched and a bit mad, his face had completely crumpled up and he was almost doubled over with the force of his laughter. He straightened himself up and that’s when Dean realized that Castiel had started to cry.

“You know, I will probably go to hell for this and you will most likely be disgusted but I’m... almost glad she’s dead Dean. I’m just so glad it is finally over. That I will not have to live in fear of the worst happening anymore because, well, it has already happened hasn’t it?”

All Dean could think to do was pull Cas into a hug. Cas felt small in Dean’s arms; grief did that to a person, made them small and fragile. Dean rubbed soothing circles in Cas’ back just as he had done with Sam after their parent’s had died.

“I’m not disgusted at all Cas. It’s okay, I understand. No one would think poorly of you for this. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay”

Cas stepped back and wiped his eyes with his sweater sleeve.

“Thank you Dean. I am not sure I will be able to accompany you for lunch anywhere.”

“That’s okay. I get it man, don’t worry.”

“However if you still wish to discuss Anna’s case you could meet me at my shop tonight around seven. I’ll be closing up but I’ll be able to talk with you.”

“That’d be...yeah I can do that for sure.”

The elevator dinged and Cas and Dean got off. 

“I will see you tonight Dean. Thank you for helping me get my sister’s things.”

“You’re welcome Cas. See you tonight.”

Dean watched Cas walk out the doors of the police station. What the hell was he even doing? Cas, no Castiel, was the brother of a murder victim whose case he was working! He shouldn’t, and couldn’t, be doing this! Shit.

Dean wiped his hand across his face, trying to make sense of his own actions. Coffee. He needed more coffee and then maybe he could make sense of Cas and this whole case. Unfortunately even though Dean knew he shouldn’t go to see Cas that night he would, and not for any of the right reasons.

**Author's Note:**

> Brooke, I hope you liked this :)


End file.
